Breaking the Habit
by Clez
Summary: The things we do to reach our goals…


**Author's Note:** This was written as a response to a challenge community I belong to, where a quote is posted each week to inspire a ficlet. There's no time limit, but the ficlet has to have been inspired by – and if possible, include – the comment posted as the challenge. This is a one-shot, and it's supposed to show the kinds of things people do for the ones they find themselves attracted to; the lengths we go to :) Hope you like it.

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**BREAKING THE HABIT**

Plucking a few more strings as he sat on the sofa, green eyes narrowed pensively, thinking over the conversation that had taken up most of the previous evening… or rather, early morning, when his roommate had gotten home from work. He hadn't been able to sleep, his mind feverish with thoughts and questions, and when she'd gotten home, he'd grabbed the opportunity to talk with her… albeit reluctantly at first. After a few fumbled sentences, he'd noticed he didn't have to tell her; she had guessed the problem, and he was surprised by her willingness to help him. In fact, she seemed rather insistent she help him… it was weird. For all the times they'd argued fiercely, she was calm and collected, and organised with her aid. Not that he didn't appreciate it, of course. He was more than grateful… he was just… surprised.

Strumming out a soft, mellow tune, he stared straight ahead and down a little, his eyes fixed on an imaginary point on the floor, even as he heard her moving about in the kitchen across the other side of the apartment. She was making herself a coffee; he'd offered when he'd made his own, but she'd declined. Of course, the fact that that had been less than twenty minutes ago baffled him, but he wasn't going to point it out. He was too busy ignoring his own coffee to bother.

"So," she began as she stirred the liquid in her mug, "how's it going?"

It took Ray Barnett a few minutes to realise she was even speaking to him, and when he did, a feeling of stupidity settled firmly inside of him; who else would she have been speaking to? Shrugging as he continued playing, he didn't meet her gaze as he replied, "It's kinda stationary at the moment."

"Still nothing?"

Ray didn't exactly love the tone in Neela Rasgotra's voice, but he simply sighed, rolled his eyes while she wasn't looking, and said, "No; still nothing."

"Well, maybe you're approaching this from the wrong angle. Did you think about that?" she offered, sipping her coffee before she turned to gaze at him from across the room. While he didn't stop playing, his eyes did meet hers, and a brow quirked.

"What do you mean by that, exactly?" he inquired laconically, but inwardly frustrated. Why did these things have to be so hard when he wanted them to matter? When it was nothing but a fling, it was as easy as could be, he'd noticed. But not when he thought it meant something; it was a hell of a lot more difficult, and felt like one of the hardest things he'd tried in a long time. His tune became a little less mellow, but he tried not to let it take over, even as Neela paced away from the kitchen, mug in hands like it was warming her. She appeared deeply pensive, even as she gazed at him.

"Well what have you tried so far?"

"Neela," he began with a sigh, "remember when I told you about this?" He kept strumming, the fingers on his left hand moving against the guitar's neck accordingly to sound out the notes being played by his right. "Last night," he reminded simply. "Well, this morning if you want to be specific, but… the point is, do you remember what I said?"

It was Neela's turn to roll her eyes, and she shrugged her lean shoulders. "You said you weren't sure _what_ to do, but that's not my point."

Ray's eyes narrowed again, and he looked down at his instrument briefly, asking, "What is, then?"

"I'm asking what you've done so far to _prepare_ yourself for any action you might take," she clarified evenly, standing facing the couch now. Ray looked her in the eyes.

"I've…" He paused, stuck on the continuation, but stubbornly refusing to say he hadn't done much. "I've tried to see what she likes. Y'know, figure out her favourite… stuff."

"Favourite 'stuff'?" Neela inquired with a slight undertone of disappointment; another thing Ray didn't appreciate right now. "And what did you find out so far?"

"Not a lot," he replied shortly. "I'm guessing she's a completely different person from when she's at work, or else I'd have to say her favourite books all revolve around medicine… which I find hard to believe. It's hard to get _anything_ about her personally when she's on the job." Looking her in the eye, he continued, "I mean, c'mon, you were her roommate for a while; help me out here. That's why I told you in the first place…" He hadn't meant to say that so bluntly; to tell her flat out that he needed her help. Now he felt a little stupid…

Neela looked on the verge of laughing softly, but she held it back. "For a while, yes, I was her roommate… but I slept on the sofa, Ray. I barely saw her room."

"Oh, what? She didn't come _out_ when the two of you were at home?" he asked disbelieving, furrowing his brow almost sarcastically. "You must have seen her watch the TV, or heard her listen to the radio or _something_…"

Neela shrugged. "Not much. Our shifts didn't always match up."

Ray almost groaned, flopping his head back for a brief moment before lifting it again. He simply looked at her, saying nothing. His eyes did it for him; 'you're not helping'.

"Well, if all you've done is play guitar, of course you're not going to make much progress," Neela pointed out somewhat chidingly. "I may not know much about Abby, but I know she'd hate a man who sat on his arse all day and strummed that damn thing."

"It is _not_ a 'damn thing'," Ray corrected quickly. "And I haven't sat on my ass all day… I offered to make you a coffee a half hour ago, but you said no. I didn't make it from _here_, did I?"

Neela's shoulders slumped slightly. "That's not what I mean."

"Then why don't you _say_ what you mean for a change instead of being so vague?" He emphasised sporadically through the sentence with stronger strums on the strings of the guitar, never breaking eye contact, perhaps trying to make a point. He'd found her comment about the guitar quite offensive; for starters, it was expensive, and it was more difficult than most people assumed. He'd been playing for years, and he still learned things every now and again.

"Fine," she mumbled. "Ray, my point is, whenever I'm home at the same time as you, I never see you do anything _but_ play the guitar, or rehearse with your band. I'm not saying it's altogether a bad thing, but women like a variety. It could get a little… boring. And maybe annoying."

It took most of Ray's self control to not blurt out something along the lines of 'what!', but somehow, he kept it back, eyes widening slightly as he laughed humourlessly. After a few moments of silence, he said in self-defence, "I am not boring."

Neela's smile was less than discreet. "What else do you do with your personal time, Ray?"

Unfortunately, that question had Ray well and truly stumped… which he found embarrassing and a little shameful all of a sudden. Neela had made a point… dammit… he hated it when she did that in an argument with him. He didn't _like_ losing; especially to Neela. "… What was your point again?" he muttered irritably, almost grinding his teeth to keep from snapping at her.

"I'm just saying you should try and broaden your personal horizons a little more. Branch out into other areas; away from the music a little. I'm not saying you should give it up, obviously."

_Good_, Ray thought bluntly, letting her continue.

"But you should definitely try out a few new things. Watch some movies–"

"I watch movies," Ray interrupted defensively.

"– where they don't blow something up every ten minutes." Neela raised her brows, reminding Ray of a teacher he'd had once; one who liked to get her point across by any means necessary.

"What else?" he mumbled, slumping a little into the sofa, with his guitar still supported on his lap.

In response, Neela paused, and then retreated to her room. Ray watched her, brows furrowing heavily in confusion, especially when he heard her moving a few items around. Glancing around as if for a clue to what she was doing, Ray cocked his head, perplexed by her behaviour. When she revealed herself once again, he was still staring at the small coffee table in front of him, trying to puzzle it out; he hadn't even noticed Neela's return.

Of course, he noticed she was back when a book landed on him so suddenly he started sharply, the guitar giving a sharp and resonating _'twang!'_ with the abruptness of it. He froze altogether, looking to Neela in a startled, annoyed manner. "What the–"

Neela's finger pointed at the book on his lap briefly before she seated herself in an armchair not far away, sipping her coffee casually as one leg crossed over the other; the picture of perfect tranquillity. There was a subtle triumph and contentment in her posture and expression, and Ray hesitantly set aside the guitar. He propped it next to him, balanced and safe, even as he retrieved the book with his free hand, looking over the cover in inspection.

"Robert Frost?" he asked, bemused. His light eyes gazed to her from his seat, and she looked right back at him.

"Like I said… broaden your horizons." Glancing at the time on her wristwatch, she smiled briefly, and added, "Time to go to work." Finishing off her drink, she set the mug on the table, and stood, retrieving her bag and coat before reaching for the door.

Ray had flipped open the book, eyes fixing on certain parts as he skimmed the pages. Pulling a face, he muttered, "_'Two roads diverged in a wood, and I – I took the one less travelled by'_…" Looking sharply to the door as it opened and closed around Neela's frame, he called out, "Oh, you've _gotta_ be kidding me!" When he received no response, he gazed around the apartment, and frowned lightly, book still in his hands and partially open. He seemed almost timid; wary of the book of what appeared to be poetry, before slouching into the sofa.

_Well,_ he supposed with a defeated sigh, _guess we've all gotta make sacrifices…_

His eyes scanned a few more pages.

_The things I do for this woman…_

**_Fin_**


End file.
